


What's Done is Done

by whatlighttasteslike (waitingforeleven)



Series: TFSN's Coda Challenge [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Coda Challenge @The FitzSimmons Network, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Texting, post 4x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingforeleven/pseuds/whatlighttasteslike
Summary: Fitz and Jemma talk through their emotions related to the events of 4x09. AKA, Jemma is getting pretty tired of hearing news through text.Written for TFSN's 4x09 Coda Challenge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’m assuming that Jemma doesn’t know about Vijay’s fate yet. She just knows that he disappeared with Senator Nadeer. And like, obviously, their texts are encrypted.

Jemma steps off the Quinjet, her phone still clutched in her hand. She spent her time on the way back to the base rereading the texts Fitz sent her throughout the day. She regrets moments like this where they can’t share news to each other face to face. It’s been happening all too often lately.

__

_I’ll be fine._ Or, as she interprets, he’s actually not fine, but he doesn’t want to make a show of it. She doesn’t know what state he’ll be in at the moment, so she doesn’t waste any time debriefing with the Director, instead heading directly to find Fitz.

She makes her way quickly through the base to the common room and finds him sitting at a table by himself, pulling wires out of AIDA’s decapitated head. “Hey you,” she says as evenly as possible.

He turns in his chair at the sound of her voice. “Just get back?”

“Yeah, just now.” She notices his slouched posture, so she strides over to where he sits and pulls him up by his hands. She’s about to bring him into a bear hug when he stops her, looking closely at her face.

“Woah, woah, hey, what happened? You didn’t mention getting scuffed up in your text.” He feathers his fingers across her forehead where she displays a visible bruise, using his other hand to gently touch her cut lip.

“Well, I didn’t tell you _how_ we got the senator’s location. But I took care of myself, and it’s nothing.” She pulls his hands away from her face.

He tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t buy that it’s nothing, and she knows it.

“Let’s get you checked out in the med bay, then, hmm?”

“Fiiiitz.” All she really wants to do is shower and get to sleep, but she knows he won’t let her get away with that. “ _You’re_ the one who got thrown through a glass door.”

“I told you I was cleared. Come on, no complaining. Just to be safe. At least to get some ice.”

She hangs her head a little, but meets his eyes in agreement. “Fine.”

They intertwine their hands and begin to leave, but Fitz halts in his tracks. He turns back around to see AIDA’s head still lying on the table. He looks from the table to Mack sitting at the island with Elena.

Mack shakes his head, pointing with his beer bottle. “Don’t even think about leaving that there.”

Fitz turns to leave, pulling Jemma along. “I’ll come back for it, I swear. It can’t hurt anyone.”

He hears Mack’s voice as they head down the hallway. “Still creepy as hell.”

*****

Jemma sits on a stool as Fitz places an ice pack to her forehead. On closer inspection, he agrees that her injuries are not as severe as he thought, but she welcomes the distraction of him tending to her in this small way. Noticing that he looks completely exhausted, she tries to move his hand so she can hold the pack herself, but he doesn’t budge. She gives him a half smile, trying to keep the mood as light as possible. “Bit of a rough day, huh?”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “You could say that.”

She instantly feels the guilt radiating off him. She knows they’ll have to have this conversation eventually. “Fitz, you shouldn’t feel responsible—”

“But I am.” He cuts her off, his words much harsher than she expected. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

She pulls the pack down to look at his face, but he’s avoiding her eyes. “Fitz.”

He steps back from her and turns around to hide from her stare. He leans on the table in front of him, dropping his head between his shoulders. “I was the one who didn’t tell you about AIDA. Maybe if you had actually told the director, we could have nipped this in the bud—”

“Fitz.”

“—before it escalated into a catastrophe.”

“Fitz! Stop, stop.”

She hops off the stool and forces herself between him and the table. He’s still not meeting her eyes, so she takes his hands in hers and strokes her thumbs back and forth. She waits patiently, allowing him to collect his thoughts. His next words come out as a whisper. “I hate how this makes me feel. I can’t help but feel like we killed someone, because she was basically human up until the end. She felt regret, she felt _real_ human emotions. At least, it seemed like it.”

“I know. It’s okay if that’s what you’re feeling. You were attached. It was something you built, so it makes sense to be upset that it didn’t work out the way you planned.” She pauses to squeeze his hands. “AIDA acted beyond your expectations. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over something beyond your control.”

He lets go of one of her hands to pinch the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “But I should have been in control. I still should have prevented her from—”

“From what, reading the Darkhold?”

He meets her eyes finally, which she now sees are slightly misty. He’s unable to respond, so she continues instead. “You were in another dimension, and…” She pauses to choose her words carefully. As much as she hates to refer to AIDA as anything other than an _it_ , he doesn’t need her correcting him right now, so she decides to play along for the time being. “ _She_ read it to save you. You wouldn’t even _be_ here—”

She has to cut herself off from the lump that forms in her throat. She still hasn’t fully recovered from the pain of nearly losing him, and not even knowing he was gone in the first place. And the _text_. There’s something about a text that is much more painful for her. The way it attempts to simplify a thousand different emotions all at once. The way the word _fine_ doesn’t even come close to encompassing how someone actually feels. 

She was grateful the texts came from May, her messages simple and straightforward, but even the words of reassurance that he was fine did little to calm the gut wrenching feeling that filled her stomach. How could he be okay after something like _that_? She remembers him holding her closer to him that night, as if she would slip into the darkness herself. No, he wasn’t fine, but they helped each other through the pain, so all she can do now is attempt to do that again.

She whispers her next words to keep her voice from shaking. “You wouldn’t even _be_ here if it wasn’t for her. It was the only way to get you back. And if you think for a second that I would have it any other way, you’re wrong. Yes, it was dangerous to have her read it. But she got you _back_ and I will forever be grateful for that.”

He nods in understanding, but still appears to hold a sea of guilt on his shoulders.

She places her hands on the sides of his face. “And yes, it was a catastrophe, what she did and what she became. But the Darkhold did that, not you. And it’s done, anyway. She’s gone. So all we can do now is move on.”

She pulls him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist so she can lay her head against his heart. “I know you want to protect me. And everyone else on this team. And I _adore_ you even more for that. But we can take care of ourselves. And we have other things to worry about.”

He looks down to meet her eyes, and then leans his head back in a half groan. “Ahh, I’m sorry. I’m not the only one that had a rough day.”

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. Tell me what happened.”

She lets out a long sigh and rests her head back on his chest. “We were so close, Fitz. He finally used his powers, and I tried to convince him to come with us, to prove to him that S.H.I.E.L.D. takes care of Inhumans. That being hunted down by the Watchdogs is not _normal_. But his sister convinced him otherwise. And I’m scared.” She pauses when she feels his cheek rest on the top of her head, his hands drawing circles on her back. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to him, and I can’t help but feel responsible.”

At this, he pulls her out of their embrace to hold her at arms length. “Hey, what did you just say?”

“I know, I know.”

“You can’t give me advice, and then turn around and not take it yourself. You have to stop blaming yourself for everything. We’ll figure it out. From what you’ve said, it sounds like the Director is finally understands how dangerous the Watchdogs and Senator Nadeer are, so that should give us some momentum in finally putting a stop to them.”

She closes her eyes and nods, but crosses her arms across her chest.

Fitz tilts his head in confusion. “What is it?”

“I think I’m sick of texting.” She lets out a soft chuckle. “I’m tired of turning on my phone only to find messages that nearly break my heart.”

He touches her shoulder and gives it a slight squeeze. “Yeah, I know. We can’t guarantee we’ll be with each other all the time, but maybe we can speak with the Director, see if we can work together more, get more time in the lab.”

She lets out a huff. “The _lab_. Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

At that, they head to their bunk hand in hand, hopeful for a much less eventful evening.  

They’re not fine.

Not in the slightest.

But sleep, and each other, will help get them there.


End file.
